anne the whore
by Befham
Summary: She knew what they were doing was wrong. Everybody has a weakness. Charles Brandon had always been hers.


**I seriously love this couple, there are not enough stories out there about them.**

**Enjoy baby birds.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Tudors. If I did Charles and Anne would have gotten busy.**

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><p>She knew what they were doing was wrong.<p>

She had a husband. A very powerful husband.

She had vowed before God to be an obedient wife.

A faithful wife.

But she could not help herself.

Everybody has a weakness.

Charles Brandon had always been hers.

He captivated her from the moment she saw him. It was over a decade ago when the English court came to France to secure the marriage contract for the former Princess Mary and the Dauphin. She had just turned twenty at the time and had been in France for many years. She considered this her home rather than the English countryside where she had been born. The lavish entertainments of the night were not a new thing in the extravagant French court. During the years that she had been serving as one of the Queen Claude's ladies, she had learnt how to handle men. Light flirting and friendly conversation was as far as she ever went. She would never let herself end up like her sister Mary, who had once been the French King's mistress for a time and now visited men's bed more that she visited her own. She knew how to use her charm and wit, and knew when to stop before a man got the wrong impression. But this man she was staring at was different. One glance of him stripped away all of her witty remarks and coy smiles. He was sitting with a group of men grinning broadly. He must have been with the English party. He was a very handsome man and had such a warm laugh which could be heard on the other side of the room above all of the chatter and music. When he caught her gaze, he grinned roguishly and then winked at her. The cheek of the man! She had blushed very uncharacteristically, and hurriedly turned away imagining him laughing at her embarrassment with the gentlemen he was sitting with.

That was just the beginning.

She had been just a girl then. Naïve and foolish, untainted by her father's ambitious plans. She thought that they had a chance at happiness.

How wrong she was.

They resorted to lingering glances, hidden touches, rare passion filled nights.

She was married to the King of England.

But she loved his best friend.

She was exactly what the people accused her of.

A whore.

Anne the Whore.

But she would never give up Charles Brandon. She was selfish when it came to him. She loved him too much to be without him.

If that made her a whore, than so be it.

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><p>She did not bother to turn around when he entered the room. The familiar shiver ran up her spine with just one glance towards her. She could already feel the anger and fear leaving her body. The sound of the door being shut and locked seemed to echo in the quiet ominously. The quiet noise of his boots hitting the floor softly filled her ears until he came to an abrupt stop behind her. She sighed quietly when he pressed himself against her back. Gentle lips caressed her bare neck making her shiver in anticipation. His hands softly moved up her arms before he took out the pins in her hair causing her dark curls to fall down her back.<p>

Charles turned her around slowly. He cradled her face in his warm hands and bent down to kiss her chastely on her lips. It had been so long since she had last felt his lips. Too long. Anne sighed against his mouth longingly.

"What is troubling you, sweetheart?" Charles murmured against her lips. He had noticed her stiff posture and the tension crackling around her as soon as he entered the room.

"Nothing," she whispered. "You are here now, nothing else matters." Truthfully, she was afraid. The King had long ago lost interest in her, which was fine in Anne's eyes. But she would not be able to hold her position as Queen if she did not give the King a son, which she had failed to do so during their three years of marriage. She had only given birth to a daughter, a daughter that Anne made the King believe was his daughter. Only two people in the entire world knew who the girl's real father was. The court all thought that Elizabeth was born premature. They were wrong, Elizabeth was born right on time.

She heard the rumours that the King was going to discard her. A daughter and two failed pregnancies were not enough to save her. When Henry insisted that Mistress Seymour was to become one of her ladies, she knew better than anyone what Henry wanted from her. When Henry had taken a fancy to her sister in France all those years ago, he put her into Katherine's household to give Mary a reason to be at court. Still, it surprised Anne when he did not immediately have the girl on her back. She knew that Henry loved to chase a girl before finally catching her, but this current bland girl Henry was interested in had been at court for months now. She was different, this Jane Seymour. Whilst Anne did not love Henry, it wounded her pride slightly to see him so enamoured with someone who was not her. He had not been this interested in a woman since he met her.

She had heard that Mistress Seymour and her family were secret sympathisers of the Lady Mary, and wished to see her restored to her former position. For that reason alone, Jane Seymour was a danger to her position as Queen, and to her daughter.

Anne did not mind being set aside as much as she should. She could live with the humiliation of being set aside, but she did not want Elizabeth to be named a bastard, and now she was afraid of what Henry was willing to do to get rid of her. She had heard whispers which she firmly pushed to the back of her mind. She could not think about this with Charles around. She could not tell him this. Not yet. She did not want to spoil their night together, they rarely got so little time together that she did not want to spend it talking about _him_.

"Anne-"

"Not now. Please Charles." She did not give him chance to answer her. She pressed her lips insistently to his. It had been so long since she last felt his lips. She had not been with him since she found out she was with child all those months ago. She did not wish to harm the child, so they rarely saw one another privately. They survived the months with lingering glances and stolen kisses. It had taken weeks for her body to recover after her miscarriage. Tonight was the first time in weeks that she felt alive again. Even now, she could not help but think, _was it your baby? Was the son that I lost yours? _

The frustrated sigh he gave was music to her ears, he was finally giving up. His large hands pushed her away from him gently. His skilled hands untied the lace of her deep red robe before sliding it off her shoulders and watching it fall to the floor. Anne stood before him in her nightgown unabashedly as his cool gaze studied her intently. She put her hands to his doublet and began working the buttons open. She impatiently pushed his jerkin away and pushed him gently onto the bed and sat astride him. Her fingers impatiently unlaced the collar of his shirt revealing his muscular chest. He lifted the dress off of her slowly as she finally removed his breeches.

After ten years she still relished in being with him, her heart still raced at the mere touch of him. Things were not always smooth between them. She fell in love with him so quickly and then was pushed into the King's path. Charles learnt that jealousy was a bitter emotion. He married a Princess, the King's sister, just to hurt her. For months they tried to stay away from one another but they eventually gave in. When she married the King, he married another, a woman Anne clearly abhorred and was a devout Katherine supporter. She did not speak to him for weeks after that. When she told him that she was carrying his child, he wanted to run, to leave the country, anything for them just to be together. But she could not leave. Henry would never let her go, not now. They were married to others, always putting on a mask of indifference in front of others. It was only when they were alone that the masks finally came off. They argued, sometimes not speaking for weeks. But when it came down to it all, they loved each other. They always ended up back together, no matter what.

Anne laced her fingers through his and admired how her pale delicate skin contrasted harmoniously against his golden tan. She loved the feeling of his rough calloused hands against her skin. He was everything she had imagined a man should be when she was nought but a girl. He was strong and muscular, just as he was when she first saw him in this state all those years ago. She lifted her eyes up to his as she brought their hands up to her mouth and kissed his hand.

Charles rolled them over until the soft sheets caressed the skin of her back. He hovered over her staring at her naked body before pressing his mouth to hers. She loved the taste of him, cinnamon and apples, so familiar yet so unsafe. They both knew what would happen to them if they were ever discovered. Charles Brandon was dangerous for her. Part of her loved the thrill of it, the secrecy, of having to hide their relationship. It was romantic, it was stupid.

Anne pulled her mouth away from him impatiently and trailed kisses down his neck. She felt him shiver above her as she grazed her teeth against his skin. His hand moved between them and caressed between her legs gently earning him a soft sigh of pleasure. He was so skilled. It used to bother her when she was younger how many women he had been with. When she came back to England after all those years away, she had heard the gossip about him from the other ladies. They said that he was a fantastic lover, but he never stayed with one woman for long. She had been more determined to stay away from the man than ever, he sounded like a scoundrel. Of course, avoiding him was much more difficult that it had seemed and he quickly seduced her.

"Please, Charles," Anne whispered. Normally she enjoyed him taking his time, but she needed him now. The hand between her legs stopped. He gave her a devious grin and merely lifted an eyebrow at her.

"What is it you want, My Queen?" The taunting words ruined the effect of his innocent tone of voice, though the words made her grin even in her current unsatisfied state.

"You know what I want," she replied brazenly and pushed her hips into his hand suggestively. Charles moved his hand away quickly. His grin widened and he raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"I beg for your forgiveness, Your Majesty, but I do not know what you speak of."

Anne laughed in disbelief. "You are a scoundrel, Your Grace! But if you must insist on tormenting me so, I will just have to tell you. I want you Charles. Now."

Charles grinned in triumph and pushed into her quickly. Anne's body tensed in slight pain as her body began to accommodate him. The smile vanished from his face. He stared down at her in worry until she smiled at him in reassurance. "I'm fine, it has just been a long time has it not, my love?" She pushed his hair away from his face and kissed him. He began moving slowly. His muscular chest brushed deliciously against her bare breasts causing her to sigh in pleasure. His strong calloused hands were everywhere, grasping, kneading, stroking her tender flesh. His lips kissed every inch of her skin that could be reached. Her legs folded around him bringing him closer to her. Her hands gripped his shoulders as his thrusts became harder, but the same maddening slow pace continued.

Using the element of surprise, Anne pushed him off of her with all the strength she possessed. As soon as he was on his back Anne straddled him, pinned him down with her thighs and sank down onto him. She moved quickly. Now was not a time for slow and tender. She needed him. She needed his reassurance that everything was going to be fine. Her hair hung around them like a dark curtain separating them from the world. She loved this feeling, the feeling of being full and complete when she was with him. She was in control of him, bringing him pleasure only she could give. It was a delicious feeling, the feeling of power. His hands reached up to caress the skin of her stomach and up towards her breasts. His grunts and her dainty moans were the only sounds that filled the room. She moved faster, harder, bringing him all the way into her watching and adjusting as she did. Anne impatiently grabbed his hand and placed it between her legs. As soon as Charles stroked her where they were joined, she felt the familiar tightening in her stomach give way until she was bathed in a pleasure that could only be found with Charles Brandon. Anne barely kept herself upright as his hips raised to meet hers. His hands tightly gripped her hips and when he finally found his own release, she collapsed onto his chest breathless.

They lay there in silence wrapped in an embrace for a while. Anne stayed still as Charles gently stroked her silky hair. The only sounds that filled the room was there steady breathing. It was there in the silence that all of the thoughts she had pushed out of her mind when she saw Charles came flooding back to her.

She was terrified. Although she had never loved Henry, she had got to know him over the years and knew the way he thought. He would think that it was her fault alone that she had been unable to give him a son, that her failure was a sign from God that their marriage was not true. Maybe he was right that God was punishing her for being an unfaithful and disobedient wife. Maybe if she were to give up Charles she would find herself with a whole nursery of sons.

Could she do it? Give up Charles Brandon for the possibility to have a son and possibly save her life?

No she could not. For a life without Charles was not a life she wanted to live. It was selfish of her. She had made a commitment to another man, and would most likely be punished for it after her life was over. She was putting them both in danger if Henry were ever to find out. It was selfish of her to gamble with their lives like this. She was an awful person. But she would never give him up, even if she paid for it with her life.

But she was scared, that she could not deny.

"I love you, Charles," she whispered through her dry mouth. She kept her eyes downcast unwilling to look at him. The hand that had been running through her hair paused and his whole body tensed.

"Why does it sound like you are saying goodbye to me?" Charles asked. She could imagine what his face would look like if she were inclined to look. His blue eyes would be stormy and narrowed under his furrowed brow, and his mouth would be pressed in a thin line.

"I am not saying goodbye-"

"Do not lie to me Anne!" he snapped angrily. She flinched a little in his arms causing him to soften his voice. "You have been acting strange since I walked through the door. You have barely come out of your rooms for days, I know there is something the matter."

She was quiet for a while. Her hand absently caressed the arm that was resting across her stomach as she thought. She knew that he was close to the King, but he would never betray her in anyway, even to save his own life. Was it right to burden this on him? If her suspicions were correct, then she did not want to drag him down with her. But she was desperate to share her fears with him. Just for a few moments she wanted to be reassured that everything was going to be fine.

"I am frightened," she finally whispered. "I know that the King wants to divorce me."

She felt him tense. "I can understand why this upsets you, Your Majesty," Charles said stiffly.

"No, no Charles. You misunderstand me. I would welcome a divorce just to be rid of that man, but I worry about Elizabeth's position. What would happen to her?" She was not naïve enough to believe that she would still be called a Princess of England. However, if she was to come out of this unscathed, Anne privately hoped that she would be allowed to raise Elizabeth herself. When she had given birth to Elizabeth, she did not realise how little a Queen is actually mother to their children. She often craved to be able to see more of her daughter. She would love the opportunity to live with her everyday.

He seemed to relax somewhat once he realised that she was upset at the possibility of losing Henry. "I understand your worry, but the King would surely be lenient with you if you did not fight him on the matter-"

"You do not understand Charles!" She sat up and stared down at him with desperate eyes. "Ever since I miscarried my son, he _hates_ me. When he wanted to be rid of Katherine, she had a powerful nephew to support her. I have nobody. No King will ever stand up for me, and not one person in this court would dare to speak in my favour against the Henry. There is nothing and nobody stopping him from getting rid of me."

Charles sat up and pulled her back to his chest. "You must calm yourself Anne. If the King wishes to annul your marriage, then you must comply and go quietly. What Katherine did was admirable, but it was also foolish. Elizabeth will still be acknowledged as the King's daughter," he said. Anne could hear the bitterness in his tone and felt another wave of guilt wash over her. She would never forgive herself for not running with him when they had the chance. She knew how it pained him to see Elizabeth call another man father. "There is no need to fear my love." He kissed her shoulder gently.

"I can only hope that he is content in annulling our marriage." The lips on her shoulder froze. "You have heard the rumours then."

Charles had to swallow back his nerves before replying, "That is all they are Anne, rumours. The King would never hurt you." He could only hope that he was right.

"If you really believe that then you are a fool. He blames me for not being able to give him a son. He gave up years of marriage, went against the Pope, killed good men in order to marry me in hope that I could give him a son. I have made a fool out of him, don't you see? After years of fighting for me, I have not given him what he desires most. I fear that he will want revenge, Charles. He once told me that he can drag me down as quickly as he raised me. Since England separated from the Catholic Church, Henry answers to nobody. The power he gained has consumed him, Charles, he is not the same man as he once was. He no longer loves me. His love for me was the only security I had as Queen. Without it I am as good as dead." Anne was not a fool. She knew that she bad many enemies at court who would take pleasure in her downfall. Some of her enemies were possibly taking this opportunity to plan her path to disgrace already. She had already lost Cromwell's support the moment she dared to disagree with him over the monasteries, and now she knew that he wanted an Imperial alliance, something the Emperor would never agree to as long as she was Queen. The Seymours were no doubt plotting a way to put their dull as dishwater daughter on the throne. Without the King's love, she was not safe.

Anne felt his arms tighten around her as he crushed her to his chest. "Nothing will happen to you Anne," Charles whispered hoarsely. "I will not allow it. I will do everything in my power to make sure you are safe."

Tears filled her eyes but she blinked them away impatiently. Anne turned her head towards him and pressed her lips to his.

"I do not wish to play this game anymore," she whispered as she caressed his cheek. "For ten years I have done my father's bidding, becoming the most hated woman in England in his ambition for power all in the name of family duty. For ten years we have had to hide our love for one another. I want to be free, Charles. I do not want to hide any longer, but I'm trapped. We are trapped. Even if Henry were to let me go, he would never allow us to be together."

He was silent for a while. What else was there to say? Charles settled them down onto the bed and wrapped the sheets around them. It was not until she started to fall into a light sleep did she hear him. "I will find a way," he whispered giving her a chaste kiss on her lips. "I promise."

For the first time in ten years, Anne Boleyn let herself believe that maybe they would get their happy ending, because in that moment, they were just a man and a woman in love trying to find their little bit of happiness in the world. He was not a Duke, she was not the Queen. They were just Charles and Anne.

Maybe she was not such a whore after all.


End file.
